Bao's weblog


Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

Weirdest dream ever

I stood on a really clean world. The sky was a pink and the hill I was on had soft, tall grass that swayed with the breeze. I walked up the hill to an Asian girl who looked to be my age. I stopped behind her and looked as she gazed ahead. Without ever looking back at me, she placed her hand on her shoulder, palm facing up, as if she wanted me to put my hand on her’s.

Our hands grazed gently. She pulled my hand and, without ever looking at me, placed it on her breast, inside her kimono. My breath was sucked away and my hand started to tingle. The tingle slowly raged into a burning sensation. I started to “white out.”

I guess I sort of… teleported. The white flash cleared and I found myself under blue skies and in a crowded parking lot. I remembered finding myself crying, but I didn’t know why. The answer came a few seconds later when I saw a blonde woman with a ponytail, holding a pistol and shooting it into a crowd. I felt myself reaching into my pocket and holding up an airsoft pistol I received a few days ago, only in this dream it was definitely a real gun.

I remembered screaming at the top of my lungs, “STOP!” She looked at me with a blank expression. She responded to me by shooting one more round into the crowd. I heard them scream. She slowly pointed her pistol at me. I couldn’t tell if she was doing it slowly or if everything was in slow motion. I squeezed my trigger. I saw her head jerk back, then slowly faced me again. I saw the hole in her forehead and the stream of blood that poured out. She took several steps towards me before collapsing. Her facial expression never changed.

I saw something out of the corner of my eye. One of my friends was pointing a pistol at me. I looked at her.

“No. No…”

I must’ve stared at her for a good ten seconds. My pistol pointed uselessly at the ground. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I don’t think my facial expression changed at all either. It was probably just a blank stare. I heard a shot reverberate in the air. I fell back, this time definitely in slow motion. I hit the pavement softly, my arms and legs were spread out as if I was making a snow angel. There was no pain upon impact with a bullet or with the pavement. My gun was gone. I didn’t see any blood. She walked up and stared down at me and I looked up at her.

It felt odd that I didn’t feel anything for her. I wasn’t angry, sad, or surprised. Does this mean I died? I didn’t realize it until now, but the screaming from the crowd had vanished some time ago and the only noise remaining was the breeze I heard from the beginning of the dream.

I woke up at 10:01, clutching my airsoft pistol, which was actually placed on a bookshelf about 7 feet away from my bed before I went to sleep. It was interesting to note that at night, the pistol was set to safety. In the morning, the selector switch was set to semiautomatic, the trigger wasn’t able to be pulled, and the hammer wasn’t cocked, which meant that I had, somehow, cocked the slide and pulled the trigger at least once in my sleep.


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